New Beginnings
by SincerelyEdward
Summary: Working as a slave all your life can be tough, but when you are faced with the Slave Market for the first time it can be terrifying. Bella Swan is being sold off to a new Master but will she gain more than just a new Master and find a friend, confidante and even a lover in this new beginning? Richward/Servantella.
1. Chapter 1

I understand that many of you want me to continue my other stories, and I will be updating "Sick Fantasies" later today. I will try my hardest to get back into my other stories very soon, please be patient.

I own no rights to **"The Twilight Saga"** or any of it's characters.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask in a review or PM me and I will answer either in the next update or reply to the PM as soon as possible.

Thanks for giving me a chance!

**PenName - **SincerelyEdward

**Name of Fic - **New Beginnings

**Non-Beta'd **

**Summary - **Working as a slave all your life can be tough, but when you are faced with the Slave Market for the first time it can be terrifying. Bella Swan is being sold off to a new Master but will she gain more than just a new Master and find a friend, confidante and even a lover in this new beginning? Richward/Servantella.

**POV - ****Bella's** (for the whole story).

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**~ Chapter 1 ~**

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"Bella!" A harsh voice hissed, a hand on my shoulder roughly jostling me from my slumber. I opened my eyes a fraction to see my fellow worker, Jessica, glaring down at me from my mattress on the floor. "The coach leaves in ten minutes!"

She pushed off of me with one last irritable glance and flounced out of the servant's quarters. I stifled a sob as I remembered I was being shipped off to auction today as my current Master and Mistress were cutting their staff due to financial difficulty.

I was devastated when they handed me my notice, a sympathetic look on their grave faces as tears filled my eyes and I mumbled my apologies.

This had been my home since I was a babe, my mother had worked here most of her life and had given birth to me one September, eighteen years ago. Being born into slavery did not make me feel any lower than my status as we were all treated with fair kindness here at the Denali House.

As much as I did not care for my Master and Mistress' daughter - Ms Tanya - she had seemed to taken a liking to me as we had grown up together and she had liked to involve me in all her parties, events and tutoring. If not for her, I would not have known the pleasures of reading a novel or reciting a beautiful piece of poetry from the ever-expanding library in the West Wing.

My work was hard, my hours long, but all the servants, housemaids and cooks were given plentiful meals, a decent bed, soft, comfortable clothing and the necessary toiletries that both genders needed. We were always welcome to use the Bath House at least twice a week and were inspected for lice and ticks every month.

To say my life as a servant here was luxurious for a person of my status, was a fair statement.

My mother had passed away from pneumonia when I was fifteen, from working in the gardens in the harsh Winters for long hours. She tolled laboriously to ensure the gardens and grounds were of high standards all year round but it eventually took it's toll on her herself.

Although I was not alone when Mother passed, I surely felt it in my heart and with each new day, the grand gardens seemed to lose a bit more of their previous youth and grace than when my mother had patrolled them.

I got myself up as quickly as I could, deciding to dwell on my memories later.

I pulled out the small black suitcase that had been my seventeenth birthday present from my co-workers, and after combing out the snarls and tangles from my hair I added my fine-toothed comb to the carefully packed case and snapped it shut. I had packed the night before, so I would not have to rush this morning.

I splashed some water onto my sleep-deprived face to liven it a little and rinsed my eyes of grit. I pulled on my undergarments and slid on my ugly, brown eiderdown dress. It was not a fanciful sight, but it was comfortable. After attaching my starched-white pinafore, I buttoned up my work boots, hating how they were so heavy and worn.

The Master and Mistress hadn't had the time, nor the money, to don us new outfits this year so the old one would need to do. I said a silent prayer to their family, kneeling in front of the communal wash basin where the small paper painting of Jesus was pinned.

I wished them well on finding new accommodation before the harsh Winter struck and hoped they would have better, more fortunate times ahead.

I walked out of the servants quarters, my head held high as my neatly tied bun at the back of my head threatened to come loose.

Several of the remaining staff wished me well and I lost count of how many brief farewell embraces I received on the way to the courtyard. There was a bitter frost in the air that made me wrap my shawl tighter around me, blocking out the chill. The last thing I needed was a cold, or worse; the flu.

I crunched my way along the gravel path in my horrendous boots, noticing that Tanya, her mother and father - our masters - were waiting on the grand front steps, a small carriage standing at the foot of them.

About two other servants stood near the carriage, fumbling with their cases and holding onto each other for comfort. As I drew nearer, I recognized the face of a younger housemaid named Angela and her little sister, Emily.

"Oh Bella, this is most terrible!" Angela wailed, throwing her arms around my neck when I reached them. I patted her back soothingly, trying to hold back my own tears that had yet to be shed.

"Don not fret so, there will be better times ahead of us I am sure of it," I said reassuringly, although my insides were in turmoil.

"Bella!" Tanya's hoarse cry came from the steps and I looked up to see her waving frantically. "Don not forget me Bella, we will always be dear friends," She sobbed delicately, dabbing her eyes with her silken handkerchief as her mother patted her shoulder.

I remembered all our games as children and could not help waving back and smiling encouragingly. Master and Mistress gave a solemn nod both to us and the coachman, who gestured for us to mount the cart.

It was then after we had been seated that we all three fell apart, stifling our sobs into our hands and wondering what the dark future held.

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**Okay, so I know this chapter might have been a bit of a bore, but believe me this is only the start and I needed to fill in background details and get the atmosphere going. **

**This is set in the 1800's, in case anyone was questioning the time period. Yes, slavery was still active in this time and was not abolished until the late 1800's, although I think that was only for black people, correct me if I am wrong. **

**We will be going to the Slave Market next, so please be prepared for some brutality, but only a little. **


	2. Chapter 2

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask in a review or in a PM. I will get back to you as soon as possible.

I own no rights to **"The Twilight Saga"** or any of it's characters.

**Non-beta'd **

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**~ Chapter 2 ~ **

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I was terrified, to say the least.

Angela and Emily hadn't gone as far as the market with me. Instead, they had been dropped off at another large mansion and we were forced to say our tearful farewells.

I tucked my best handkerchief with my initials embroidered onto it into Angela's palm for comfort and she sobbed even more. Emily hugged me fiercely, all her twelve years shaking in her horrible work boots.

The coachman said he didn't want to hurry us, but we had best be on our way. Angela fumbled in her case and brought out a silver brooch in the shape of a bird.

"Here," She sniffled. "To remember me,"

"Oh Angela, I shall always remember you," I embraced her tightly, giving her hand one last encouraging squeeze. Then I was mounted into the cart and Angela and Emily faded into the distance.

I fingered the delicate brooch, wondering if it was her family heirloom. I tucked it away carefully down my petticoat, attaching it just so. Out of sight from prying eyes.

"Ye alright Ms Bella?" The coachman called out when he heard my lonesome cries.

I cleared my throat hurriedly. "Yes, thank you sir," I squeaked out unconvincingly.

"If ye say so, Miss," He replied, sympathy edging into his rough country voice. I dried my tears quickly, not wanting to look like a royal state and proceeded to peer out of the carriage window, spotting a small village in the distance.

The cart clattered down the dusty lane, grey clouds gathering in the sky and appeared to be a bad omen covering the world. I sighed heavily, despair overwhelming me as the horse guiding the cart picked up it's pace to a quick trot.

It was disconcerting, being in the back of a rickety cart all alone as I was shunted side to side when the wheels clapped over a stone in the road. The coachman did not say another word to me for the remainder of the journey, although he would peer round through the hatch behind his head to check I was fairing alright.

We clattered into the village after what appeared to be hours, but could only have been minutes that passed. There was much activity and hustle in the small village.

Punters gathering round stalls, upper-class members idly strolling around, radiating authority. Many rougher types were dragging along slave girls of a similar status to me and I gasped at how they were handled. Everyone seemed to be heading towards one place; the Slave Market.

The place which held all slave women and men's fate. The place where I would today be auctioned off to another master or mistress as if I was worth no more than the cattle and livestock lowing in their pens.

The coach drew to a stop and the coachman came to open the door for me. I felt bashful, stepping out from a relatively high-class coach when in fact I was just as unworthy as the other girls who were being tugged along, gaping openly at me and my attire as I stepped down from the cart.

"I be taking ye as far as the registration and then I must leave ye Ms Bella, I am so sorry," He told me sincerely, placing a meaty hand on my shoulder to console me but it made me want to weep; he was abandoning me.I knew this was coming but I wanted to throw myself at his feet and beg him to take me back into the coach and take me away, anywhere but here.

I had to fight to compose myself as he led me through the bustling crowd, passing poor slave girls like myself crying in corners. Some being beaten to silence their mournful pleas. I shuddered and the coachman drew me closer with his hand on my upper arm.

"You be alright Miss, I won't let any of them swines touch ye for as long as I can," He promised as we swiftly walked past more unfortunate ones. There was a sorrowful aura floating about the place. It smelled of death and punishment and I despised it.

A few children ran amok, oblivious to what was going to happen to them. One blonde haired little girl smiled up at me, her face covered in soot and grime, and I had to fight hard to muster up a smile of my own. I was so filled with my own dread.

We reached the registration desk, people barging and shouting. Cries of help and mercy rang out, slaps and punches were given out generously, silencing the victims. I felt like a sheep as I was herded towards the large wooden desk where a well-dressed man sat and took down names, addresses and attached a number to each slave's dress or work suit.

Most of the slaves kept their head bowed, their mouths moving silently as they prayed to the Lord for help, to no avail. The good Lord was not going to be merciful today, it appeared.

The line shortened and moved forward and I was a few steps away from the gates of Hell.

"Ye be fine Ms Bella, am sure ye will get yerself a nice master or mistress who will be as hospitable as the Denalis," He scratched his moustache wearily. "Ye be a fine looking woman Miss, so don't ye fret,"

"Thank you," I murmured, smiling up at the kind stranger, feeling remorseful that I could not have known him better. He was like the father I had never had in only a few short hours. "Before I leave, would you be so kind as to tell me your name?"

The man looked bashful. "Er, Charlie, Miss. Charlie Higginbottom," He told me.

"Well Charlie, I shall remember you," I smiled. "Thank you for taking care of me,"

"'Course," He replied, a blush covering the tips of his ears beneath his pepper coloured hair. "Ye be a fine daughter for someone, tell me, where's yer Mother?"

"Oh, she passed over some years ago," I remember sadly, watching as the line shortened once more.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said softly.

"Don't worry over it, I've been fine all these years, although I do miss her,"

"Of course ye do. Anyone would. I miss my ain Mother an all," He said wisely. I nodded, smiling warmly up at him. His sturdy stomach only made him appear taller than he already was and he was well built. He had obviously had some muscles at one point in his life, but the remaining ones drooped slightly, but were still very prominent.

He must be a wonderful husband to someone out there, I thought wistfully. I hoped for a husband of my own someday, but that dream was impossible; I was only a meager slave girl.

It was then our turn at the desk.

I was registered, pinned up with a number and whisked away into a strange looking barn before I could even contemplate what was going on. The barn stank of uncleanliness, but was filled with the stale stench of carbolic soap.

A woman in her late thirties came up to me without a word and tugged me over to a communal tin bath that was filled with grimy water.

If this was to make me clean, I doubted it very highly.

"Take off your gown," She commanded and I gaped at her in horror. Never in all my eighteen years had I been ordered to strip in front of anyone except my mother. "_Now,_ please," The woman demanded again, crossing her strong arms across her drooping chest. I slowly pulled off my garments and she snatched them from me, putting them in a wicker basket, along with many others, which was then carried off by another woman.

"No! They are my only clothes," I whimpered from the cold in the room and my nakedness as my skin pimpled unattractively. I also remembered Angela's brooch that was tucked away in my petticoat and tears fell down my cheeks as I protested some more.

The woman did not seem to care.

She got me into the tub and began scrubbing at my skin harshly with a washcloth. She tutted irritably when she saw my hair done up with pins. She yanked them out harshly and I yelped.

"Sorry," She muttered, not sounding it in the slightest. She attacked my locks with carbolic soap and lathered it in generously. I knew my hair was not dirty or crawling with any kind of lice, but she poured some foul smelling lotion over me anyway. I weeped when the soap ran into my eyes but again, there was no sympathy to be found.

At long last I realised how pampered I had been at the Denali House.

No one seemed to care for each other here, there only worry seemed to be getting the job done as quickly as possible.

After I was rinsed, scrubbed raw and shaking like a leaf, she finally relented and shoved a dirty towel at me. I hurriedly dried myself off, not wanting the foul fabric to touch my skin.

She pushed a cotton dress at me next; a skimpy affair which would barely cover my bottom.

"I cannot possibly wear this," I protested, "It is not decent,"

"Ooh, Miss Hoity-Toity," The woman sneered unkindly, "Well it is all you have got. You can either wear that, or nothing at all - your choice,"

I knew she meant it so I sighed and tugged on the indecent gown, wincing as it accented my breasts and outlined my full hips. I didn't like showing off any of my body; I was far more advanced physically than the other girls here due to my previous diet of rich, plentiful food and I felt so out of place.

"Excuse me," I gritted out, trying to be polite, "May I have some undergarments?"

"Stop being so insolent!" She hissed at me with a furious expression. "Do you not follow the ways of the Lord?"

"Of course I do!" I gasped at her rudeness and assumptions.

"Well then, a God fearing woman like yourself should have been taught _not_ to speak back to her elders and masters," She frowned at me and tugged me out of the bathhouse towards a large pen. We went through a set of curtains that lead to a crowded room filled with crying, whimpering girls in the exact same attire as myself.

Many of them looked almost as dead as their monotonous expressions and sorrowful grimaces. Their eyes were glassy and expressionless, silent tears rolling down many of their cheeks. All of them had slightly damp hair and the horribly revealing dresses which showed far too much pimply skin or flushed red flesh. None of them acknowledged me as I was shoved into the crowd by the woman and when I turned round to comment on her harshness, she was gone.

I sighed and flopped down onto a lone crate, burying my face in my hands. My number had been pinned rather roughly to my new dress by that woman and I felt so much like a cow or a pig being sold off to be slaughtered.

My suitcase had been snatched up too; gone to be burned, I guessed mournfully.

A few more girls were shunted through the curtains by different women and each looked as horrified as all the others, including me. I shivered with cold and wrapped my arms around myself.

This was the end of my decent life, and the start of a much harsher, crueler life that I had never known until now.

Then the auctioning began.

A short, plump being of a man waddled up to the stand as we crowded round to watch through a small peep hole in one of the tattered tarpaulins. He introduced himself as Mr Avery and announced that a fine selection of girls were up for the taking.

Many of the slimy, drunken men leered excitedly and leaned further over the gates of the pen, eagerly awaiting our appearance onto the small platform. The place smelled of rotting flesh and it made me gag violently and I resorted to breathing shallowly through my mouth.

The girl standing beside me suddenly clutched my arm fearfully.

"What will become of us?" She whispered, her long golden hair sticking to her face.

"I am not certain," I murmured with the same fear. "I am Bella," I introduced with a gentle smile, touching her hand gently with my own.

"I am Rosalie," She said and mustered up a smile that would have any man's heart thumping. "I hate this place," She shivered.

"I do also," I agreed happily, glad there was someone decent amongst this bunch of dead-looking creatures. We held onto each other all the way through the sales, watching with frightened eyes as more and more girls were called forward to stand on the platform, practically bare to all those leery men's eyes.

Rosalie and I prayed together for a short time, holding onto one another's hands.

"We are next," I whispered in horror.

"Oh please no!" Rose squeaked and covered her mouth with her hands. He long, blonde tresses trembled with fear as she shook. I embraced her gently, smoothing her hair with my hands.

"It will be alright, just keep your eyes on the ground," I told her. She nodded and sniffled a few more times before straightening up.

We stood on the platform together, trembling with fright as we felt many pairs of hungry, male eyes rake over our indecently exposed bodies. The bidding began and I chanced a look at the crowd. Many of them were old, drunken coots who looked like they would simply use us for bedding pleasures.

I shuddered at the thought and looked down at my bare feet again. I was a virgin, and intended to stay that way until I was in my marriage bed with someone I loved.

"Now then," The auctioneer boomed. "Let's start the bidding on the beautiful golden haired angel we have here on the left," He gestured to Rose who trembled once more and closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent prayer.

Offers were thrown out randomly by many different men.

The prices went higher and higher, almost reaching ten pounds. I was dumbfounded. Ten pounds was a very large amount for a slave, from what I had heard the others go for.

None of the others had sold for more than about one or two pounds.

"Ten pounds and not a penny more!" A low, booming voice rang out over everyone else.

I looked up to see Rose staring openly at a handsome young fellow who was stepping forward. He was huge, practically a giant. He towered over everyone else in the market, showing his authority without even trying.

He smiled gently up at Rose as the auctioneer's voice ran out. He asked if any more bids were to be placed to which no one answered.

Rose sucked in a deep breath as everyone waited for the verdict.

"Going once, going twice...Sold! To the gentleman in black at the front," His gavel banged down on the wood of his stand, sealing the deal. Rose looked as stunned as her face did.

"Farewell Bella, thank you for being so kind," She whispered with a watery smile before she was taken off the stage.

Now it was my turn.

Again, the bidding went higher and higher, but this time it sailed past ten pounds.

"Ten pounds!"

"Eleven!"

I was shivering. The last man to have called out was a disgusting looking creep with greasy blonde hair slicked back. A cigar rested on his smirking lips and I resisted the urge to run straight off the platform.

"Fifteen pounds, and if anyone bids higher, I will fight you until there is nothing left in your pockets but a bitter loss." A smooth, velvet, authoritative voice rang out.

The crowd gasped.

_Fifteen pounds for a slave?!_

My own mouth nearly dropped open in shock.

"Are you sure sir?" The auctioneer questioned intently, leaning forward.

"Quite sure," The voice seemed to smile confidently.

I looked up, my eyes darting in the direction of the voice. I was met with a most beautiful sight.

A lean, well dressed man was standing near one of the posts, his gaze set intently on me. I felt my cheeks flush crimson and I bowed my head once more.

"Very well then," The auctioneer boomed heartily, pleased with the bid.

No one else dared compete with this handsome stranger and eyed him warily.

I did too.

His hair was as red as the the fires in Hell and it made me uncomfortable. He had a penetrating gaze that never faltered from gazing at me - his prize. I wondered why such a young man would be in need of a slave, for he did not look like a regular master.

His face was most pleasant to look upon however. Angular, defined jaw bones that accented his manly face and added to his facial beauty. I could not depict his eye colour from such a long distance, but I could see they were gentle and sober; not a hint of leeriness.

His full lips were turned up in a small, heavenly smile as he caught me staring unabashedly. I flushed a deeper shade of red and my blush spread to my neck and collarbones.

Someone finally came and dragged me off the stage, tugging me down a narrow passage towards a waiting carriage.

I had to hold back my gasp. It was a beautiful affair, intricately designed with expert care. It was highly polished and well cared for. The two horses that were harnessed to it stood proudly, their black coats glossy and healthy, their hooves shining even when standing in the dirt of the marketplace.

A tall figure soon stepped into view and stood in front of me. I raised my eyes up to see the familiar face of my new master gazing down at me.

"Hello," He murmured kindly, his beautifully gentle smile still in place.

"Good morning, Master," I greeted properly, curtseying as gracefully as I could in the disgraceful garment they called a dress.

My new master laughed quietly.

"Please, you do not need to call me that." He told me, "I am Edward," He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to give me my name.

"Oh...I am Isabella, but I prefer Bella if you please, Master." My voice trembled slightly as I disobeyed his order. He simply smiled and lifted my hand into his. My palm tingled with warmth as his hand encased mine tenderly.

"Pleasure to meet you Bella," He said softly and kissed the back of my hand as though I were a lady of his status. I blushed again and he chuckled softly.

"Shall we?" He gestured to the carriage like a perfect gentleman. He couldn't possibly be this kind, I thought to myself.

I mounted the carriage cautiously, ever self-conscious of my revealing dress. Once I was seated on one of the plush velvet seats, Edward followed and shut the door, ordering the coachman to carry on. I heard the snap of the reins and the carriage began to move.

I was so amazed. I had been fearful of my new life but now it didn't seem so bad. I glanced at my new Master who was smiling at me with kindness evident in his soft, sombre eyes and I prayed things would be better from now on.

*~#~*

**Aha, so we have met Bella's new Master. Master Edward. I wouldn't mind a bit if he was _my_ Master. Hopefully there will be better times ahead for Bella and is this the last we will see of Rosalie and the stranger that bought her? **

**Review to find out my lovelies :) **


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